


Pony

by LittleSammy



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-22
Updated: 2012-04-22
Packaged: 2017-11-04 02:23:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/388640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSammy/pseuds/LittleSammy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ziva needs reassurance, and she needs it in the middle of the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pony

**Author's Note:**

> Happening a short time after "Enemies Domestic", but written before the episode actually airs, so please forgive an impatient author if anything will happen in two days that will totally contradict this piece. ;) Spoilers for "Enemies Foreign" only. 
> 
> Surprisingly, this one _is_ safe for work.

He is confused when Ziva shows up at his door in the middle of the night. Contrary to popular opinion - read: McGee and Abby - he and his partner just don't do that, usually. 

They don't hang around each other's places all the time. They hang out, yes, but they seldom do it at a private place and they certainly don't have the habit of crashing and sleeping over. Tony can count the times that Ziva has been to his place since they brought her back to DC on one hand. He, in return, has been to her apartment exactly once, when her car had broken down and he'd volunteered to pick her up.

So, yes, Ziva knocking at his door at two in the morning is unusual. Even stranger is the fact that she actually knocked and not just picked the lock but just as he opens his mouth to shoot a flippant remark about that at her - he is slightly annoyed that she woke him after all - he sees the expression on her face and the words die unspoken.

"What's wrong?" he asks instead, and Ziva jumps slightly at hearing his voice, as if she hadn't been expecting him to open the door after all.

She tries to answer but nothing comes out, and he stares at her and tilts his head while he scratches his neck. He's tired and feels vaguely rumpled in his old OSU shirt and sweats and he can't help the yawn that's creeping up on him. It's two in the frickin morning after all.

And while Ziva's eyes flick all over the place and she seems to be about ready to run before she even arrived, he steps back and opens the door completely. He doesn't say anything but somehow he makes it clear anyway that this is an invitation she can't refuse. And somehow Ziva gets it. She always gets him, in more ways than he is comfortable with, but that's not something he should dwell upon while he's sleepy and vulnerable and Ziva is awake and vulnerable.

Another shudder runs through her when the door clicks shut behind her, and when she half-turns her head to look at him he sees a flash of a scared animal, not the predator she used to be. And that's when he yawns again and turns towards the kitchen.

She's still there when he comes back, rooted to the same spot where he left her, and she's looking at him in confusion when he presses a mug of hot chocolate into her hands. Her expression tells him she has completely lost her way and has no clue what she is doing here, with him. After a minute of nothingness he sighs, takes the mug back and puts his own and hers down on the couch table. Then he moves behind Ziva to get her out of her coat, and she jumps again, not sure what to make of this. But because it's him, she raises her arms and lets him take away her flimsy armor.

"What's wrong?" he asks again, almost whispering the words into her neck. For a second he could have sworn that she leans closer to him, her back almost touching his chest, seeking physical comfort, and that simple thing suddenly scares the crap out of him and almost makes him step back. 

He stops himself just before he does, and she stops herself just before she does, and then she takes a deep breath and wraps her own arms around herself and Tony wonders what to do now.

"Can I ask you a question?" she says. Her voice is so low that he almost doesn't hear her.

"Sure," he says, even though he is far from sure because if she wants his permission first it's not going to be an easy one and so he has no idea if he can actually answer it. "But do you really want to ask _me?_ "

She turns her head so he can see the side of her face in the dim light coming from the kitchen, and it occurs to him that his living room is still dark. Strange, but also strangely appropriate.

Ziva blinks slowly, thinks, then says, "Yes." Her grip on her own arms tightens and he knows she's trying to stop herself from shaking. "Abby, like my therapist, means well but she doesn't understand certain... things. And others she can't deal with very well." She pauses again, thinks some more. "And Gibbs is good for silent comfort but not for actual talking."

He watches her back and the slight tremble that runs through her and realizes this means that he _is_ good for talking. And suddenly Tony wants to laugh hysterically because no one ever accused him of _that_ before.

"Yeah," he says instead and suppresses the urge to run. "So what do you want to know?"

She's silent for so long that the chocolate cools down but Tony keeps waiting patiently. He wants to flop down on the couch or maybe go back to bed and maybe, just maybe even ask her to come with him. He does none of these things, just waits it out, not moving from where he is, a mere shadow in her back. He knows some things are easier when you don't have to look at someone. He knows Ziva is bad at these very same things. He knows it because he is, too.

"My... being here..." she says eventually. His eyes fix on her neck, the tiny hairs there standing on edge. For some reason he suddenly wants to reach out and run his fingers through them. Wants to soothe her skin and mind. "Is it unreasonable?"

He blinks while his pulse suddenly hammers loudly, and she notices her phrasing and adds, "Not here-here. General here. America. And with NCIS." 

Her voice trails off, and now he is getting really confused. "What's unreasonable about being home?"

She shudders and he sees her press her lips together tightly for a heartbeat. Then she closes her eyes. "Against better knowledge I tried to talk to my father. But he did not want to talk to me. He said there was no point. That I was looking at him the same way I did when I did not get the pony my uncle had promised me." 

Her voice grows more quiet with every word and Tony is busy with straining his ears so he can understand what she's saying. And then the meaning of her words sinks in, and a weird mix of pain and anger suddenly rushes through him. And he wants to punch Eli David's face so hard it scares him.

"Your father is an idiot," Tony hears himself say, his voice a stranger and choked with sudden emotion. 

Ziva's lips curve into a sad smile for a heartbeat. "Perhaps," she replies softly. "But I keep asking myself these questions now. If he was right, maybe. If my choices were just the idle wishes of a spoiled child. If I should have honored my family and my duties instead. If... if I made the right choice in staying."

"You know you did," he says, and there's real horror in his voice now because the alternative is unthinkable. "Ziva..."

"I know," she interrupts him. "But still, you know?"

Her voice is shaky now, and he gets it. And talking from afar is a hard thing to do so it doesn't really surprise him when he finds himself much closer to her suddenly, his hands coming up to grasp her upper arms while he pulls her back against his chest.

She flinches hard when he does that, and for a heartbeat she is so tense that he thinks she might fight him. Then he feels how she forces herself to relax, and he closes his eyes and fights the urge to press his lips to the side of her head. Because they generally just don't do that.

"You do honor your family," he murmurs, and another shudder runs through her, much harder this time. She's losing the tight control she usually has over herself, little by little, and it creeps him out to watch it. But he can't seem to stop talking now that he's started. He just hopes he finds the right words.

"Every damn day you honor them, Ziva. And your family is glad with the choices you made. Your..." He hesitates, fights with more words that force themselves out of his mouth. "Your family wants you alive and happy. And you'd be neither if you'd gone back to Mossad."

He breathes out slowly and waits for the sky to fall. It doesn't, and Ziva doesn't pull away from him, so he adds, "You can be our spoiled ninja princess for as long as you like, and heck, if you want a pony, I'll be your pony, you can ride me all day, I'll even--"

He bites back the rest of the silly words when Ziva laughs, very softly, but he senses the strange disappointment in her at the bad joke. She's still resting her back against his chest but he knows by the way her muscles shift that she'll pull away any second now, that she'll look at him all composed and with her emotions in tight check again, and that she'll probably never come knocking at his door again at two in the morning. His hands tighten around her arms, and she notices it and gives him a few more heartbeats.

"Sorry," he says, finally giving in and resting his forehead against her. "Can't really go against my nature."

"I know," she says, and this time he hears the understanding and the sadness echo so loudly in her words that it makes his ears ring. "But it would have been nice, considering I just did."

She pats his hand on her arm, and he knows she expects him to let go of her now. But he can't. Because he can't disappoint her like that, not if he wants to look at her in the morning and expect her to still feel the same about him. Because the sky didn't fall before, and maybe it won't fall this time, too. Because maybe his own world is a little less askew since she's in it. And because he really, really needs to tell her that--

"I love you," he says, and the words rush out before he can censor them. And there is a new tension coiling inside her all of a sudden, and maybe the sky didn't exactly fall but something certainly got knocked off its axis. "Does that count?" he asks, tries for flippant and only achieves hesitant.

She breathes slowly, and he feels her heartbeat, strong and strangely sure. And then the tension seeps out of her again, just like that, and even though she doesn't really move, she suddenly feels much closer to him.

"Yes," she says. Her hand tightens over his, and he has to fight to not just wrap his arms around her because that would be too much after all. "It does count."


End file.
